Something I happened to note recently was a statistic that about two-thirds of all gun deaths in the United States are suicides. Not accidents, not murders. This did not surprise me.
I will not keep a handgun in my home for fear I might turn it on myself. (There is a shotgun but I haven’t had shells for it for years.) It is something I have thought about pretty much every day since I was a little kid. I have held a gun to my head on a couple of occasions. It is unlikely that I would do such a thing at this point in my life, but there is no point in tempting fate.
Though honestly, if I learned I had an incurable disease (Alzheimer’s included), I would see nothing wrong with taking my destiny into my hands, making that leap into the darkness on my own terms. I would not wish to linger painfully nor be a burden on anyone.
But probably not with a gun, nor even in a red Cougar. There are gentler ways to go.
With any luck, maybe I’ll just get whacked on the head by my surfboard and drown when I’m a hundred and ten or so. That’s what I’m aiming for, anyway!